


Graduated

by lady_daedalus



Category: Neon Genesis Evangelion
Genre: Also there's winter, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fluff, Karl continues to try really hard, M/M, Shaun would be a really bad nurse, fluffy as the driven snow, karlshaun, like the worst bedside manner ever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 04:17:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6104658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_daedalus/pseuds/lady_daedalus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>High schoolers are supposed to graduate from high school to college. College students are supposed to graduate from hopeful visions of a bright and verdant future to existential crises and the nagging feeling that one actually isn’t as talented and accomplished as one hoped and may not ever be. Graduated cylinders are supposed to graduate from milliliters to… more milliliters. Nagisa Kaworu was not supposed to graduate from staring at Shinji’s desk to draping himself over it dramatically.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Graduated

**Author's Note:**

> I just recently opened a kawoshin writing blog, [angelic-courting-rituals](http://angelic-courting-rituals.tumblr.com/), where I post drabbles, fic updates, prizes for the "feed my insecure need for external validation" game, extras for the "courting rituals" series, and take kawoshin requests/prompts. All of the fluffy content without the extra posts. Fat-free fluff. I received a number of winter kawoshin prompts there, which I've combined with a suggestion I got from qkawo a long time ago about Karl sneezing when he gets excited.

By now, Shinji’s used to Nagisa saying weird things out of the blue, and he’s gotten so good at putting up with it that he can tell when they’re coming. He has the timing down to the second. Sometimes, when he’s tuning Nagisa out, he likes to think that he’s magic, and he’s been cursed with having the most specific, useless power in the entire magical catalog. He imagines some poor temp worker of the divine bureaucracy up there flipping a massive book (maybe Moby Dick or another tome with a similar heft to it) open to random pages, pointing their finger somewhere on the page, and constructing Shinji’s ability from the words on which they land. “Ikari Shinji,” they say. “Ikari… Shinji… ah yes, let’s give him… the power to, um… predict… conversational… non sequiturs.” 

“What kind of dumb power is that?” he imagines their boss saying. For some reason, their boss is clearly a woman, and she sounds a lot like Asuka.

“Hey, it’s better than that one guy who got the ability to sharpen pencils to the exact same length every time; that’s something. Or that other guy who can only see two minutes into the future.”

“That’s a Nicolas Cage movie; we didn’t do that one.” 

“Oh, right.”  

Actually, it’s much less glamorous than all that. It’s the way Nagisa sits that gives him away. Shinji sits behind him, and Nagisa likes to turn around to sit in the chair backwards, prop his chin up on the back, and _stare_. This pose never precedes anything good. 

“I have a rash on my arm that’s shaped like the Big Dipper,” Nagisa had informed him the first time this had happened. Like being pretty made one exempt from the ability to overshare.

“Excuse me?” Shinji asked, face crinkling up in disgust.

“It’s true! I think it’s because of the dry weather. It really itches. Do you want to see it?” 

“No,” said Shinji, but Nagisa shoved his arm into Shinji’s face anyway. “Look, Ikari, don’t you think it looks like the Big Dipper?” 

Shinji had thought so, actually, but he still didn’t think it was something he needed to know in the first place.

Another time, Shinji had seen him turning around and tried to hide behind his textbook, but he was too late.

“Hey, Ikari, you know how people gain weight during the winter? I think my fingers are gaining weight. What do you think?” 

“How would I know?” Shinji hissed, glaring at Nagisa from over the top of his book. “And stop shoving your arms in my face.” 

And today, Shinji can tell, there’s another pearl of wisdom that Nagisa’s just waiting to present to him. He can practically see it forming in his eyes as the little grains of thought gradually coalesce into a weird precipitate of… whatever it is that comprises Nagisa. He decides to claim the first small victory and acknowledge his neighbor before Nagisa can catch him off guard. 

“What is it, Nagisa?”

“I like you.” And in three words, Nagisa takes back the point Shinji had foolishly thought he won from him.

Shinji blinks at Nagisa. Nagisa blinks right back, and then the blinking gets faster, and Shinji’s horrified to find out that he’s actually trying to bat his unnaturally pale eyelashes at him.

“What.”

“I like you. We should go on a date. And then after that, we should go on lots of dates. And hold hands. And kiss. While we go on dates.” 

“Well, no one’s gonna say yes if you just come out with it like that,” Shinji huffs. “Besides, what if I don’t want to date you?” 

Nagisa sits up on his knees so that he can pop his head into Shinji’s personal bubble, or so Shinji thinks must be his thought process. “Are you saying that if I found a better way to ask you, then you’d consider it?” 

“No.” 

Nagisa pouts and turns himself back around in his chair, slumping forward. Shinji would like to be relieved, but he gets the distinct impression that Nagisa’s planning something while he stews; in fact, he fancies he can hear the underused gears in his head creaking with the effort.

Over the next few days, Shinji decides he can add “power to sense mild annoyances” to his magical oeuvre, because every so often when he’s chatting to Asuka or Kensuke and Touji, he’ll get a little shiver, and when he turns around Nagisa’s _always_ there. He tries (but he doesn’t succeed) to conceal himself, looking out at Shinji hopefully, but then when Shinji turns around to scowl at him, he pulls his scarf up over his face and ducks behind whatever lamppost or bush is currently shielding him from both winter’s ire and Shinji’s alike. Then Shinji will stare at the trembling white cowlick sticking out of Nagisa’s hiding spot with some satisfaction before he resumes his conversation.

“Do you ever just like someone so much you don’t know what to do?” Nagisa asks Kensuke one day, lying on his back in the snow, having been defeated by Shinji’s glower once again. The white of his skin and his hair blends in with his surroundings, so at first glance, it appears that hovering above his scarf is nothing but a floating pair of red eyes. Very, very sad red eyes.

“Not really,” says Kensuke, shrugging helplessly. “Oh! Although, I did read on the internet once that Thomas Jefferson had a really violent headache for two days after he embarrassed himself in front of a girl he liked.”

“Who’s Thomas Jefferson?”

“Some American guy, one of the ones with the wigs; I dunno. Anyway, at least whatever you have can’t be as bad as that, right? So cheer up.” 

“I guess,” Nagisa says sadly, although he squirrels this little piece of information away in an easily accessible part of his brain for future use.

 

High schoolers are supposed to graduate from high school to college. College students are supposed to graduate from hopeful visions of a bright and verdant future to existential crises and the nagging feeling that one actually isn’t as talented and accomplished as one hoped and may not ever be. Graduated cylinders are supposed to graduate from milliliters to… more milliliters. Nagisa Kaworu was not supposed to graduate from staring at Shinji’s desk to draping himself over it dramatically. 

“Ikari,” he sighs, throwing an arm across his forehead to add to the effect. 

“Move, Nagisa. I need to put my books down.” 

Nagisa just heaves an even more conspicuous sigh and pronounces Shinji’s name with a bit more flair. “I-ka-ri,” he drawls.

“Oh my god, what do you want?” 

“I am afraid I have a violent headache, Ikari,” says Nagisa. He cracks an eye open when Shinji doesn’t say anything, then swiftly shuts it again before he stretches himself out further. “I think it’s because I like you so much.” 

“Piss off,” says Shinji, and he shoves Nagisa onto the floor without further ado. 

“So violent, Ikari. Just like my violent headache, only compared to my violent headache, that didn’t hurt at all.” Nagisa’s voice drifts up to him, unperturbed. He continues to chatter away on the ground at Shinji’s feet (Ikari, if you told me to go lie in the snow without a coat all day, it would not be half as painful as the violent headache I feel from liking you so much, and what’s more, I would do it. Because I like you so much.” “Great, go do that, then.” “So cold, Ikari…”) until the teacher comes in and tells him to stop being such a pain (“You hear that, Nagisa? You’re being a pain.” “I bet it’s nothing compared to the pain you put me through, Ikari, but I forgive you. Do you see what you do to me?”) 

Thus begins Nagisa’s campaign as the leader of the Pity Party. 

“Ikari,” he says breathily, throwing himself at Shinji’s feet again after gym class. “I have a cramp in my side, Ikari. I think it’s because I like you so much.” 

“Drink more water,” Shinji says simply, throwing his water bottle at him before he walks away and ignoring Nagisa’s exclamations of “So thoughtful, Ikari! That’s why I like you.” 

The next day, Shinji receives a text in the middle of the night just as he’s about to fall asleep. 

 

_-ikari_

 

_-ikari i have a stomachache i think its because i like u so much_

 

_-this is nagisa btw i got ur number from asuka_

 

Shinji was going to have to have a very stern talk with Asuka later. Asuka would absorb absolutely none of it, but at least he could say he tried.

 

_-ikari_

 

_-ikari_

 

_-ikari talk to me i can’t fall asleep i might have insomnia_

 

_-…_

 

_-i think I’m getting another rash but this time it looks like orion_

 

_-…_

 

_-i think its because i like u so much_

 

_-it could also be bc thats like the only other constellation i know but its probably because i like u. i like u so so much_

 

_- <3<3<3<3<3_

 

_- <3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3_

_< 3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3_

_< 3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3_

 

_-xoxoxo_

 

_-thats hugs & kisses in case u didn’t know. i want to give them 2 u_

 

_-because i like u_

 

_-im not sure which one is which tho but they’re both there so i guess it doesn’t matter_

 

When it gets to be about that time in winter wherein the cold viruses and the flu viruses are deep in their competition to see which side can wipe out the most people the fastest, Shinji finds himself torn between hoping for two possible futures. On the one hand, if Nagisa doesn't get sick, he'll most assuredly be around to bother Shinji at school. On the other hand, if he does get sick, he’ll probably get some kind of twisted satisfaction from being able to text Shinji and tell him how his crush has well and truly compromised his immune system. The more thought Shinji gives to it, the more he decides the first hand looks much more appealing. After all, the more time Nagisa isn’t in class is more time he can use to come up with more, increasingly irritating words with which to flood his inbox. Yes, Shinji thinks, the first hand is the hand for me.

Then one day, with a stunning guest appearance by the ever trusty Murphy’s Law, Shinji ends up with a nice slap across the face from the second hand. _Bitch, you thought you could reject me?_ it says, like Shinji’s just denied it the golden apple of avoiding Nagisa. _I’ll show you_. And show him it does.

Shinji, of course, had blatantly refused to take Nagisa his homework at the end of the day, and he had just thought he had avoided a large inconvenience when he found himself receiving a call from Hikari as he walked home from school. 

“Um, Shinji,” she says, and Shinji’s special sixth sense for mild annoyances kicks in, and he knows exactly what news she’s called to deliver. “Uh… I went to give Nagisa-kun the work he missed in class and, um, he keeps telling me he wants to talk to you. It sounds like something urgent.”

 _Damn_ , Shinji curses inwardly. Nagisa must have figured out his number would go ignored if he used his own phone. 

“He’s very insistent,” Hikari presses.

“Okay, fine, hand him the phone, I’ll get rid of him, I am so sorry about this,” Shinji says apologetically. He hears the sound of the phone being shuffled between hands and then -

“Ikari!” Nagisa’s voice sounds congested from the cold he has, but unfortunately it hasn’t impeded the speed with which he can push Shinji’s buttons.  

“It’s snowing out so you’d better make this fast, Nagisa; I swear to god, if you’re calling me to tell me you have a cold because you like me so much -”

“How did you know? You’re so perceptive, Ikari! That’s just another thing I like about you.”

“Stop bothering the class rep and apologize to her right now.” 

“No, this is fine; I’m enjoying this,” Hikari’s muffled voice says in the background.

“Oh, Ikari, it’s simply _awful_ ,” Nagisa laments loudly. “It seems my symptoms just get worse and worse. I think I might die.” 

“Oh my god.”

“I need to see you, Ikari, or else who knows what will happen to me?” 

“No.”

“Ikariiii,” Nagisa whines. “Ikari, if I die, then at my funeral they’ll have to say that Nagisa Kaworu died because he was desperately in love with Ikari Shinji, and that he eventually fell ill, and his heart stopped working because it was broken and starved of affection, and his condition worsened because his heart wasn’t able to support his immune system anymore -”

“That’s not how biology works.”

“- and this whole tragedy could have been avoided if only Ikari had given him a chance, and then everybody at my funeral will look at you judgmentally, and even after my funeral they’ll judge you for the rest of your life, probably, because you let me die -”

Nagisa’s still talking into the phone and describing how Shinji will have to walk, wracked with guilt, past his grave every day on the way to school when he hears the door to his apartment open. Shinji marches in and slams a disposable coffee cup down on the table in front of the couch upon which Nagisa’s sprawled himself inelegantly. 

“This is tea. Stop talking and drink it,” he says. 

“What happened to your phone?” Nagisa asks.

“I hung up on you during the part where you were talking about your funeral. Drink the damn tea.” He snatches Hikari’s phone out of Nagisa’s hand, gives it a thorough scrub with a hand wipe he had in his pocket, and returns it, grimacing, to a thoroughly amused Hikari. 

“I am so, so sorry,” he says again. “I’ll take care of this.” 

“No, don’t be,” she replies. “I enjoyed the story time. You sure I can trust you not to kill him, though?”

“If I did, his ghost would just follow me around and then I’d never get rid of him.”

“Yes, I suppose so. Well, I’ll see you at school, then. Good luck, Nagisa,” she says before she bids the two of them goodbye, ignoring Shinji’s pleas not to encourage him.

“Ikari,” Nagisa begins, but Shinji cuts him off.

“I thought I told you to drink your tea.” 

“Of course, Ikari. You’re so considerate. Also, that snow in your hair is adorable.” 

Shinji forges ahead into Nagisa’s kitchen, fuming all the while and hoping that Nagisa burns his tongue so that he can’t talk. 

When he returns, he places another cup of water on the table - unfortunately, he can’t slam this one down with much force because it’s breakable - and as he rummages around in his backpack he continues to hold his eye contact with Nagisa to make sure his mouth stays occupied drinking the tea and he can’t get a word in edgewise. Finally, he retrieves a few packets of dissolvable vitamin C powder (orange flavored for all your vaguely medicinal tasting citrusy needs) and throws them in Nagisa’s face. 

“Finish drinking the tea. And then when you finish drinking the tea, pour one of those in the water and drink that. And then when you finish drinking that, pour another one in another glass of water and drink that. Don’t talk to me.” 

Surprisingly, Nagisa does as he’s told. Every time Shinji dares to look up from his homework, he sees Nagisa obediently sipping at his series of liquids. When he’s finished, he tucks his legs in and sits up straight, gazing at Shinji like he’s looking to be congratulated on a job well done.

“I did it, Ikari.”

“… Good for you. You should be feeling better soon.” Shinji starts gathering his things to leave.

“I think it would work faster if you kissed it better.”

Shinji’s expression twists into something unsightly indeed. Nagisa doesn’t seem to mind. “No way. I’m not catching your cold.” He chucks another blanket at Nagisa as he passes by him on the way to the door. “There. That’s all you’re getting from me.”

“Aw, Ikari, you can’t even blow me a kiss?”

“Why do you even like me? Why can’t you bother someone else?” 

Nagisa flops onto his back, straining his eyes a bit from trying to look at Shinji upside down. “Because you’re cute.” 

“Yeah, well if that were enough to justify dating someone, I’d date you, but here we are.” 

Nagisa goes starry-eyed. “Do you really mean that, Ikari?” 

Shinji shrugs. “I mean, it doesn’t change anything.” 

Buoyed by this new information, Nagisa crawls over to the arm of the couch and hangs his top half over the edge. “What other criteria do you have for someone to be in dating consideration?” 

“For starters, you could actually ask me to go out with you instead of telling me to.”

“What else?” 

“I don’t know. Be interesting?” 

“That’s some very broad criteria, Ikari, but I will do my best to fulfill your requirements.” 

Shinji rolls his eyes. “You do that,” he says, and leaves.

 

When Nagisa finally returns to school, the entire class gets a kick out of him kneeling on one knee in front of Shinji’s desk. “Ikari Shinji,” he says seriously, “I like you so much. Please go out with me.” 

“No,” says Shinji, and he promptly puts up his textbook between them. 

Nagisa tries again the very next day. “Ikari Shinji,” he says on bended knee again at Shinji’s locker, “I like you so much. Please go out with me.” 

“No.” 

Nagisa asks him once every day after that. After the first five days, Shinji just incorporates it into his schedule. Wake up, brush teeth, walk to school, turn down Nagisa’s entreaty to join him in conjugal bliss, stop by the shoe lockers, go to class.

“Ikari, I’ve been learning to play the piano. Is that interesting to you? Also, I like you so much. Please go out with me.” 

“Ikari, I wrote you this composition. I like you so much. Please go out with me.” 

“Ikari, I know from watching television that a lot of couples fight about one of them forgetting an anniversary. If you went out with me, I’d never forget our anniversary. I like you so much. Please go out with me.” 

After several months of this, when Shinji finally says yes, Nagisa gets so excited that he sneezes. In fact, he sneezes precisely twelve times in a row. 

“Ugh,” says Shinji. “Are you getting sick? I’m not gonna let you kiss me if you’re sick.” 

“I’m just so surprised that you actually said yes,” Nagisa says from behind his hands, where he’s squealing to himself. He sneezes again. “I must be sneezing for every time you said no.” 

“Well, stop it before I change my mind. And use this before you hold my hand.” Shinji throws him a small bottle of hand sanitizer. “Just because you’re cute doesn’t mean you’re not contagious.” 

Nagisa practically melts into a puddle roughly the same consistency as the hand sanitizer Shinji’s just passed him. He eagerly rubs the contents on his hands, adding a bit more for his forearms just to be safe, and grasps Shinji’s outstretched hand excitedly. 

“Hey Ikari, at least this time we know I was sneezing because I liked you so much.” 

“Don’t push your luck,” Shinji mumbles as he pulls Nagisa along behind him. “Also, you can call me Shinji.” 

**Author's Note:**

> In addition to this being winter kawoshins (part the second), kawoshin procrastination celebration (part the third), it also ended up being my project for what my friend and I have deemed Mecha Suffering Day (February 23), which marks the anniversary of the day we finished NGE and the day I descended into kawoshin hell. I was trying to come up with something to celebrate, and when I was filling this prompt, it ended up growing into something much longer than the 500-1000 words I'd been planning. So happy Mecha Suffering Day! Celebrate with denial fluff. 
> 
> And as always, you can come a-kawoshinning with me at my primary blog, lady-daedalus.tumblr.com.


End file.
